His grin was immediate. Bingo.
Before Artemis could notice, a blast door slid down between them with a sharp, echoing CLANG. She spun around.
"Zane?!"
He just waved lazily through the gap as the metal slab locked into place. "Guess we're splitting up! You take the scenic route, I'll… uh… do whatever this is."
"Zane, don't—" Her voice cut off as the door sealed completely.
---
The hallway beyond the sign was dimmer, quieter. The hum of the main corridors was muted here, replaced by the soft churn of air filtration. Zane's steps echoed in the narrow space, leading him to a set of control consoles lining one wall, each labeled with dense technical jargon.
He scanned the panels. Oxygen scrubbers… CO₂ output… nitrogen purge cycles… oh, hello.
A small hatch in the wall revealed a slim emergency maintenance bay. Inside: a hand-sized manual override with a warning label that basically screamed Do Not Pull This Lever Unless You Hate Breathing.
Zane chuckled under his breath. "Oh, Watchtower, you shouldn't have."
He hesitated just long enough to mutter, "Well… it's been a while since I took the quick exit." Then he yanked the lever.
---
At first it was just a hiss. Then the air thinned like someone had opened a window to the void. His lungs burned after the first few breaths, every inhale feeling lighter, emptier.
"Ten out of ten…" he wheezed, leaning back against the cold wall, "…would recommend to anyone… who doesn't like tomorrow."
His vision tunneled, the edges of the corridor melting into black. The Watchtower seemed to hum louder, or maybe that was just his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
As the last of his strength slipped away, Zane smirked faintly to himself. "Suffocation...no breathing...this is my last...resort.…"
And then — nothing.
---
When his eyes opened, he was on his bed.
The peeling wallpaper, the rusty pipes, his two noisy raccoons — his base was exactly as it had been a few days ago.
Zane lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the relief and annoyance mix in equal measure. "Well…glad superman or some hero didn't miraculously rescue me."
He sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. The rewind had sent him back to when Serling was kidnapped, before the Watchtower mess.
Zane's eyes narrowed slightly. "Alright, Desmond… round two. Or… three? Whatever. You're getting the snot kicked out of you."
He stood, stretching, mentally mapping the route. The Cadmus fiasco had left him with a list of grudges, and Desmond's name was etched in bold at the top.
Still… another thought gnawed at him. He hadn't tried activating an Echo Form since that time. His fingers flexed absently. "Wonder if I can trigger it now… or if I'm still stuck with the boring version of me."
The idea lingered, tempting. If he could access one, even partially, Desmond wouldn't know what hit him. If not… well, Zane had always been good at improvising. And dying creatively.
Either way, he had a plan. This time though, maybe he should bring Artemis with him. Just as backup.
...
TWHIP!
Twin grappling hooks snapped into the night, cables singing as they hauled two figures between rooftops. Zane and Artemis sailed over the neon-lit sprawl of Star City, shadows slipping from one building to the next.
The wind tugged at Artemis's hood. "So you're sure this is Cadmus?" she called.
"Positive," Zane replied, spinning a little midair just to annoy her.
"You said it was a simple rescue mission. So why do I have to stay outside? Why not go in together?"
"Because I need eyes on the perimeter," Zane said, swinging past a billboard. "If they try to slip her out while I'm inside, you're the only one I trust to stop them."
Artemis smirked faintly as they landed on a taller rooftop. "The only one?"
"Not true. I've got Papa Roach and General Crunch."
"Those are raccoons, Zane."
"They're war heroes, Artemis."
"At least I have opposable thumbs."
"Speciesist."
They hit their final rooftop and crouched low. Below, the Cadmus outpost sat like a tumor in the middle of the industrial district — floodlights sweeping the yard, two guards pacing lazily near the gate.
Zane pointed toward the shadows. "You stay here. Watch every exit. Don't come in unless I call you over comms."
"Are you actually going to—"
"I'll call. Promise."
Before she could argue, he dropped silently over the edge, vanishing into the dark.
---
Inside the Perimeter
The first guard didn't even see him — a muffled grunt, a twist of Zane's wrist, and the man crumpled silently. The second one got two steps toward raising his rifle before Zane's robotic arm cracked across his jaw, sending him spinning to the ground.
He moved fast, slipping through shadows and sidestepping every trap with casual precision. A trip laser? Stepped over without looking. Smokecreen room? Handle it like last time. Neurotoxin in the vent? Sealed it up.
---
The Main Room
The steel double doors slid open with a hydraulic hiss, the sound echoing through the cavernous chamber like a slow inhale before the storm.
Inside stood Desmond — broad-shouldered, arms folded — and beside him, the tall, immaculately dressed figure of Lex Luthor. Except Zane could see it wasn't the Luthor, not really — the faint whir of servos under synthetic skin gave it away.
"Ah, our guest of honor," Luthor's voice purred, rich with condescension. "I see you—"
Zane didn't bother letting him finish. His right arm shifted with a series of metallic clicks, panels unfolding to reveal the dull gleam of ballistic ports.
A thunderous K-THOOM tore through the room. The blast caught the android square in the chest, ripping synthetic plating apart and launching it into the far wall in a shower of sparks and fractured alloy. It crumpled, twitching.
Zane lowered his smoking arm. "Monologue denied."
Desmond's lip curled in a snarl. "You—"
His body convulsed violently. Muscles bulged, veins ballooning under the skin before the flesh tore like paper. His bones shifted, reshaping into something massive, grotesque. Within seconds, the man was gone — replaced by the towering, gray-skinned monstrosity that was Blockbuster.
Zane tilted his head, smirking. "Thought you'd never ask."
He stepped forward — but his body suddenly resisted. A sharp, tearing sensation rippled through his chest, his vision dimming at the edges. His shadow flickered unnaturally under the overhead lights, stretching and curling upward.
His breathing turned ragged. "Come on….come on...dont embarrass me now.."
The shadows spilled over his skin like liquid tar, crawling along his arms and spine. His claws pushed through with a wet, metallic shhk, his eyes burning a pale, alien hue. It was slower this time, like his own body didn't want to let go. A surge of heat rolled through his muscles, followed by the jolt of something primal snapping into place.
Zane's breathing steadied. He straightened, his Echo Form complete — sleek, menacing, and ready.
Blockbuster came first, covering the distance in a single, earth-shaking leap. His fist came down like a wrecking ball, the BOOM rattling the steel panels beneath them.
Zane twisted aside, claws slashing across the brute's ribs, leaving deep grooves that oozed dark, viscous blood.
Blockbuster roared, swinging wide — a haymaker with enough force to pancake a car. Zane ducked low, sweeping the monster's leg. The impact jarred his arm; the bastard was heavier than he looked.
The fight became a blur of movement and destruction. Every impact was a concussive blast — THUD! CRASH! — dented steel, splintered concrete, sparks cascading from damaged light fixtures overhead.
Blockbuster slammed both fists down, cratering the floor. Zane backflipped away, landing just in time to catch the brute's follow-up punch and twist the wrist until the joint cracked like a snapped branch.
The creature howled, retaliating with a wild backhand that smashed Zane into a wall hard enough to crater it. The impact rattled his bones, but did no damage.
"Still… ugly as ever," Zane spat, pushing himself free.
He lunged forward, driving his knee into Blockbuster's gut. The hit made the massive frame stagger, air exploding from its lungs. Zane followed with a flurry of slashes — high, low, then a brutal elbow spike to the jaw.
Blockbuster caught him mid-swing, massive hands clamping around his torso like a vice. With a bellow, the monster hurled him across the room. Zane crashed into a stack of reinforced crates, the metal folding under him with a tortured SKREEE.
Dust filled the air.
Through it, Zane emerged, shoulders low, claws dripping. He sprinted forward, ducking under a swing and raking both claws deep into Blockbuster's back. The creature screamed, thrashing, trying to shake him off — but Zane clung on, carving jagged trenches across the thick hide.
With a final wrench, Blockbuster slammed backward into a wall, crushing Zane in the impact. For a moment, he felt pain — but he drove both claws into the wall, using it as leverage to kick the brute square in the back of the head.
The monster's knees buckled.
Zane landed lightly, breathing hard but grinning. "You're slower than last time. Or am I faster?"
A final, savage exchange followed — claws vs. fists, blood vs. sparks — until Zane's last strike took the monster's legs out from under him.
Blockbuster collapsed against the wall, shrinking back into the battered, bleeding form of Mark Desmond, wheezing in pain.
---
Meanwhile, Outside
Artemis paced on the rooftop, eyes scanning the perimeter. "Zane, what's happening? Talk to me."
His voice came over the comms, steady and rough. "Still breathing. Still winning. Hold position."
"That doesn't answer my—"
"Artemis. I've got this. Just keep the door shut out there."
She grit her teeth but stayed put, bow drawn, eyes locked on the compound.
---
Back Inside
Zane loomed over the battered Desmond, his claws still extended. "Now… where's Serling?"
Desmond spat blood, glaring up at him.
Zane's smile was cold. "We can do this the short way… or the really short way."